Bounty Hunter
by SwordSkill
Summary: CHAP 4 SUMM: Aoshi learns from Shishio why the bounty hunter Misao is, as Aoshi was, working for the Underground Trade League. Meanwhile, Misao gets to know Aoshi's crewmates -Hanya, Shikijou, Hyottoko, and Beshimi- and makes a startling discovery.
1. Chapter 1

** A/N:** I'll be exploring a very interesting concept which, I think, might startle some A/M fans when it is finally revealed later in the story. Since this _is_ AU, please pardon the possible OOCness of Aoshi and Misao's attitudes towards each other in this first chapter as well as Aoshi's resemblance to his Shishio days. I'll have to start their relationship from scratch, you see. 

**Bounty Hunter**  
  
Chapter One   


  
  


The captain of the ship rested on his seat, placing his boots on the control system and leaning back. He steepled his fingers and stared at the vast emptiness that was separated from him by panes of glass.

Aoshi Shinomori loved space.

Space was black, deathly, had always been there and always will be. It had seen all births and deaths. It encompassed all. It _was_ all.

_Pat pat pat._

But more importantly, space reminded him of himself. It was, compared to all its vast territory, empty, harboring only a few insignificant planets, stars and other stellar bodies. Aoshi Shinomori was empty, devoid of emotion, harboring only a few insignificant fragments of his life.

_Pat pat pat._

Of that he prided himself.

His eyes flashed. He grabbed his blaster from the holster on his hip and whirled around in one smooth, fluid motion.

A short man stood in front of him, swathed in a navy-blue suit. A blaster rested on his hip and a belt of knives rung around his waist. His mask covered his face, and on his forehead rested the mouth of Aoshi's gun. His arms were up in a sign of surprise and resignation.

Aoshi's blue eyes of steel glinted as he inquired frostily, "Your name, your vector and quadrant number, and I'll send your body to your family with my condolences."

The man answered, his voice unclear due to his mask, "I don't think they'd appreciate seeing me mangled."

"Makes it easier for me then." Aoshi cocked his weapon's energizer to full power. The energion particles glowed and the gun hummed with increasing pitch.

"Wait." After a moment of consideration, the intruder pulled off his mask, revealing the pale face of a girl. Black hair tumbled out in a braid. "Would you shoot a young lady before your eyes?"

The expression on Aoshi's face did not change. In fact, there was no expression at all.

"I have shot dozens of women and children and watched them as their brains exploded," answered Aoshi collectively. "Another one will be no different."

"Then when will there be a difference?"

Aoshi's finger was about to squeeze the trigger. "There never will be."

"Aoshi-taichou!" Something beeped in Aoshi's ear.

Aoshi looked a trifle bit peeved in being interrupted. Still keeping the gun on the intruder's forehead, he mildly answered the communicator in his ear, "What is it, Hanya?"

"Do you remember the shipment of human slaves we have to cargo over Sotaheme a few hours from now?"

"Yes, what of it?"

"The shipment called for fifty slaves, and one of them just killed himself by messing with his restraining bolt and frying himself as a result. We'll have to stop by a planet and get one more."

There was a pause as Aoshi assessed the situation by looking at his prisoner from head to toe. Bounty hunter, from the way she was dressed. His eye roved to her belt of knives. A knife thrower. Very promising. He looked into her face and her green eyes. Human, no mistake. Strong and agile too, judging from the way she stanced herself. Not a bad package. He could get a good price for her.

"Hanya."

"Yes, captain?"

Aoshi's eyes never left the girl's as he said, "Guess what just walked in with two feet."

  
  


Aoshi Shinomori, homo homo sapiens, was a native of Nihon, Planet Terra, part of the Intersteller Confederacy. He was the executive head of Shinomori Energion Mining System, a network of mining plants spread all over Terra that excavated precious energions, energy crystals used as primary power sources of the planet. The system was a monopoly, and he was one of the richest men in the commercially-thriving Terra. He lived in his mansion in NeoTokyo as a distinguished figure of society, feared by all. He was a gentleman at the top of the upper classes.

But while he was not attending press conferences, business visits, or meetings with his advisers, he worked secretly as a ruthless smuggler, one of the most powerful of the Underground Trade League. Aboard his smuggling ships, he took charge of Eastasian goods and specialized in ammunition, slave labor, and illegal macrochips for starships. 

Deals between smugglers were always done in clandestine. Legend of the Underground has it that anyone caught peeping or eavesdropping on him as a smuggler always ended with a laser bolt slicing cleanly through his head. Formers dealers who showed suspicious symptoms of leaking to the government of Executive Head Aoshi's other job never saw another day. Aoshi killed with precision and without hesitation, his face a mask and his trigger finger a sign of doom.

  
  


The bounty hunter was thrown into a dank cargo bay at the base of the ship, her weaponry and clothes confiscated and was given a brown, straw robe to wear.

She looked around and was faced with forty-nine more people, emaciated and staring at her gloomily. They were all dressed in the same brown, straw robes, the garb of the slaves. There was a musty smell of human sweat that pervaded the room. A small light flickered on the ceiling and somewhere in the corner of the room was a dripping sound.

"What are you going to do with me?" she boldly asked the incredibly tall and white-masked Hanya as he unlocked the cupboard tacked on one of the walls and began rummaging.

"You're to be sold as a slave in Sotaheme," he answered comfortably, turning around to face her, his voice muffled. In his hands was a small, cylindrical bolt and a bolt driver.

"And what are those?" she asked a little fearfully, pointing at them.

"Restraining bolt. We put them on you during the journey and take them off when you're sold. No refunds." Hanya flicked the bolt and sparks of blue light jumped out. "It's pretty self-explanatory, I think."

It was only then that the girl noticed that everyone in the room except her and Hanya had a small, gray bolt sticking out of their necks. The other slaves' eyes bore holes on her, as if they were pitying her.

She couldn't help but shudder. "And you're going to stick that into my neck?"

"Oh no, not me. The captain infuses the bolts personally into all of his slave cargo. Here he comes now."

Aoshi was walking down the stairs leading the slave cargo bay, his heavy boots making no sound on the metal floor. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his hands dripping with disinfectant. He took the tools from Hanya. The girl suddenly had an urge to vomit.

"Number TXR-28," he called to her.

"I have a name, you know," the girl said defiantly. "It's Misao Makimachi."

Aoshi ignored her as Hanya pushed her towards him and held her still. Misao wriggled vainly as Aoshi placed the bolt on her neck with cold fingers. She finally gave up and shut her eyes, waiting for the evil bolt to sear her skin.

It never came.

When she opened her eyes, Aoshi had returned the tools back at a surprised Hanya. The other slaves were buzzing and nudging each other, pointing at Misao.

"I don't think she'll cause us any trouble," said Aoshi coldly, rolling down his sleeves. Then to Hanya, he said, "Shoot her if she does. We can always pick up another slave."

"Yes, captain."

  
  


Aoshi hurried back to the cockpit deck, his boots loudly clanking on the floor. He sat on the pilot's seat and stared back at black space.

When he had bared the white neck with his fingers, the sight of it had stopped him from driving the bolt through. His hands couldn't move and he had been sweating badly. Again and again he had told himself that every slave always had to have a bolt inserted or else they could escape, but no, his fingers couldn't obey his brain. He stood there, uncertain of what to do, until he finally handed the bolt and the driver back to Hanya and made his escape.

He wiped his brow with his sleeve and emptied his cup of Terran tea. What had just happened to him there?

***

"This is TXR-27," said Aoshi, gesturing at the middle-aged man in front of Misao. "He used to work as a mechanic."

The fat Ceruloid stared at the man then said, "I'll take him for a hundred and forty credits."

"Sold," said Aoshi as the Ceruloid handed him the bills. He pushed TXR-27 towards Hanya to have his restraining bolt taken out. Misao saw a flash of blue light and heard a yelp of agony, then TXR-27 came back, sobbing, with a painful-looking, crimson mark on his neck. Hanya dropped the used bolt along with the other bolts into the container.

"And this," said Aoshi, grabbing Misao forward by the arm, "is TXR-28."

"Misao Makimachi!"

"Be quiet." Then to the Ceruloid, "She used to be a bounty hunter and -"

"Hey, what busines was it of you to know that I was a bounty hunter?"

Aoshi glared at her in irritation and continued "- and she has a good arm with knives that-"

"How the heck did you-"

"Shut up!" barked the otherwise ice-king Aoshi Shinomori. Hanya looked at his captain with curiosity. The Ceruloid looked amused.

"-that," continued Aoshi after composing himself, "can aid you in hunting ranock lizards. I hear they're in season by this time of the year."

The Ceruloid's green tongue ran over his chops. "I'll take her for one-forty."

"No."

The Ceruloid blinked its vacuously white eyes. "What?"

"She's worth more than that." Aoshi tightened his grip on Misao. She winced.

"What do you suggest then?" The Ceruloid shifted his position and his great bulk wobbled.

"Two hundred fifty credits."

The Ceruloid snorted derisively. "Come now, Shinomori, two-fifty for a skinny brat like her? I thought you were a better businessman than that. Take the one-forty."

"Two hundred fifty, and not a credit less."

Misao piped in, "Hey, don't I have a say on this?"

"No," the two men told her immediately.

Shinomori put on his best card. "And she has a big mouth that could keep your wife busy at all times."

Misao reddened into the shade of Terra's sun. "What the crud-!"

Aoshi clamped his hand on her mouth and continued smoothly, "You won't have to keep dealing with your wife when she's bored."

The Ceruloid looked defeated. Then he slapped the blue credits on Aoshi with his jelly-fat hand.

"I have never been so humiliated in my entire life!" shouted Misao as four servants of the Ceruloid struggled to drag her away. "I am worth _so_ much more than two-fifty!" Then she aimed her voice at Aoshi, saying, "Aoshi Shinomori, this isn't the last you've seen of me! Bounty hunter's word!"

With deadly certainty, Aoshi replied, "The most you can do is try to survive." He stared at her for a moment. Then he turned his heels and walked away, not looking back.

***

NeoTokyo, Terra. Dusk had arrived. Terra's moon was slowly rising up on the gray sky. A year had passed since we last saw Aoshi Shinomori.

As Hanya made the last few inspections on their ship in the private docking bay, Aoshi made his way towards a great mansion of glass and steel that he called his home. It towered above any other residential structure in NeoTokyo and over-looked the busy metropolis. Behind it was his huge docking bay, a harbor for all the commercial and smuggling ships he owned. Holograms of vegetation were lighted around the place.

Aoshi keyed in his password on the comlock of the door. The green characters glowed then dimmed, beeping its response. The door slid open without a sound and a tinny, melodic voice of the housecom sang out from the comlock. "Good evening, Master Shinomori. Shall I ask Shikijou to send you a drink?"

"No."

"Very well, sir. You have a visitor today."

Aoshi walked in towards the glass table, pulling off his gloves and throwing them on it. "I wasn't expecting one today." His tone was noncommital.

"No, sir. She said she did not ask for an appointment."

"She?" He pulled out his blaster and placed it on the table along with his gloves.

"Yes, sir. She claims to be Misao Makimachi and is currently in the waiting room."

Aoshi's eyes widened. _That name..._

He grabbed a small de-atomizer from his pocket and ran across his ivory hallways and up to the room. The steel door swung open and he could see both Beshimi and Shikijou standing at two corners of the immaculately-clean room. But what drew his eyes was the one sitting on the sofa, a figure of a lady in blue, with knives on her waist and blaster on her holster. It was indeed Misao Makimachi, a slave no more and once again a bounty hunter, yet she was scarcely the girl he remembered.

She had grown. She was taller, and her face held the treasure of two, alluring, green eyes. He could see the beginnings of a voluptuousness that could only come from a woman. But what bothered Aoshi most was the fact that she was sitting in the middle of the room...

...alive.

**chapter one, end**


	2. Chapter 2

** A/N:** Little clearing here. The term "energion" would appear quite frequently throughout the fic; I actually borrowed the word from the show _Beast Wars_. It pretty much works like the same thing. ^^ And the "energion saber" that you will encounter is a rip-off of the _Star Wars_ lightsaber. They too work alike, except that energion sabers strictly need an energion crystal to work instead of any kind of focusing crystal that is normally used in a lightsaber. Much of the sci-fi influence in the fic is Star Warsian. ^^ 

**Bounty Hunter**  
  
Chapter Two   


  


In an instant, Aoshi's de-atomizer was pointed towards her direction. His eyes were on fire, and there was no hesistance in them.

Misao's own eyes widened. "No, Mr. Shinomori, it's not what you thi-"

He pulled the trigger. A sparking atomic sphere pierced the quietness of the room. Then an explosion.

Aoshi blinked. Beshimi and Shikijou had not moved from their positions.

Misao could hear her heart pounding as if it would crush her rib cage. A nanosecond ago, she had felt the heat of the sphere sweep past a mere inch beside her ear before it hit the window behind her. Suddenly, millions and millions of glass particles showered onto the floor like stars of the sky before she heard the explosion. 

That could have been her.

Her hands were trembling and she felt numb. Her green eyes stared at Aoshi Shinomori.

Aoshi was staring back at her, disbelief in his eyes. How could he have missed a target on such close proximity? She was just a few feet in front of him, at point-blank range. Yet he had missed. He, one of the best shooters there were in the galaxy, had missed an extremely easy shot.

His mind flew back. A moment before he had fired, something had told his hand to move a few degrees to the right. Then he squeezed the trigger and missed.

"M-mister Shinomori." Misao's voice was unsteady as she gripped the arms of the sofa. "Your gun is making me very n-nervous."

Aoshi did not lower the gun, but neither did he fire it.

"I was sent here by Mr. Shishio," said Misao, a little color seeping back to her pale face.

"Shishio," Aoshi icily repeated the name of Makoto Shishio, the great chief of the Underground Trade League.

"That is correct." Misao slowly reached for something in her pocket. Small Beshimi and gigantic Shikijou started, but Aoshi waved them away.

A now-calmed Misao handed him a small, round, recording holomitter. Their fingers touched, Aoshi's hand rubbing with Misao's gloved one.

Aoshi flipped the smooth device open. There was a whirring sound and a small hologram appeared on its flat surface, crackling.

The miniature figure of Makoto Shishio's beryllium-bandaged form stood there. "Aoshi Shinomori," it said smoothly as the static fuzzed. "Have you began thinking of the business proposal I gave you?"

Aoshi looked at the holomitter without a word. He had sent him bounty hunter just to remind him of _that_?

"And Aoshi," Shishio's voice lowered, "if you had not yet exterminated the young woman I sent you, I have something very interesting to say."

Aoshi silently glanced at Misao and back to the record.

"I trust there is no one present save our lady that you do not trust?"

Beshimi and Shikijou? Aoshi trusted them with his life, along with Hanya and Hyottoko.

"Aoshi, this woman holds a great secret that could revolutionize the energion consumption of the galaxy." Shishio crossed his arms. "She could put the entire energion industry of the Interstellar Confederacy into our hands."

_Our? You mean the Underground Trade League, of course._ How else was the League funded if not for the mining system? Aoshi gazed at Shishio's figure with a sort of grim annoyance.

"This bounty hunter," continued Shishio, "has a knowledge of rich energy lodes in a certain part of our galaxy. They are veins of raw energions ores - untouched and in their purest state."

Aoshi could already see it coming. He felt a faint sense of dread.

"I want you," ordered Shishio, lifting a smoke tube into his brown lips and breathing deeply, "to accompany her to these mines and gather as much information you can about them." He blew away smoke rings. "Excavation will start as soon as you deem necessary." He took a few more puffs of smoke.

Aoshi looked at the hologram with growing hate. He had secretly loathed Makoto Shishio from the very start. Aoshi disliked his ways of negotiations and his hallucinations of using the League to take over and be hailed as the galaxy's greatest leader in the future. It was disgusting how he played with his lover, Yumi Komagata. Add to the fact that he seemed to be bordering on the edge of insanity. If he hadn't owed the earlier success of his mining system to the League, Aoshi would have left him, for Aoshi Shinomori wished to serve no one.

"And Aoshi," added Shishio in mid-smoke, "I'll send Hoji to you for more details about your mission. He will also listen for your answer to my other proposal, the one we were talking about a few standard days ago."

Aoshi cringed inwardly. If there was someone that he had always wanted to de-atomize into bits, it was Hoji Sodojima, Shishio's detestable personal assistant. His grovelling ways to his master irritated Aoshi and his overbearing behavior to the rest of the League was enough for anyone to thoroughly abhor him.

"That is all," said Shishio, tucking his smoke tube into one of the pockets of his lounging robe. "I expect a full report on the energion mission soon." Then his hologram figure froze as the record ended.

Aoshi began to close the holomitter with his palm and the hologram disappeared. Then the holomitter dissolved in quiet self-destruction.

Aoshi looked up and beheld Misao looking at him with a dazed expression.

"And what is your name again." He made it sound like a procedure instead of an inquiry.

"Misao Makimachi," she replied immediately.

"Beshimi, Shikijou." Aoshi had ignored Misao's answer. "It's all right; I can handle this. Start dinner without me. I'll join you later."

Scarred Shikijou gave a small nod to his commander as he and Beshimi ushered themselves out and closed the door. Aoshi and Misao were utterly left alone in the room, Aoshi standing and Misao on the sofa.

"There's...plenty of room," said Misao softly, gesturing at the sofa.

"I prefer standing up," said Aoshi, looking at her as if she had lost her mind. "I'd also prefer you to answer two simple questions of mine before anything else."

"I'll try, Mr. Shinomori."

"First, what were you doing in my ship the first time we met? Second, how did you and Shishio have this agreement to guide me in finding those energy lodes when you were in the thralldom of the Ceruloid?"

"Thralldom meaning-?"

"Under the service of," defined Aoshi, leaning on the wall and crossing his arms.

"Oh." Misao cleared her throat. She didn't seem to have anything to hide. "I was running away from some troopers in Gaibur and I found that one of the hatches of your ship was open. I climbed in and managed to elude them. But when I was about to get off, the engines roared and your ship took off, so I shut the hatch and thought I'd take a free ride." She took a breath. "Then you had me sold to the Ceruloid. For a year I worked there as his slave and dancing girl, thanks to you."

Aoshi had a sudden vision of the feisty bounty hunter as _his_ dancing girl but banished the thought. "You had the misfortune of thinking my ship as a free ride."

"Well, you did not have to sell me-"

"The situation is closed. Continue answering."

Misao looked miffed but she continued. "So there I was, making a living of catching lizards and belly-dancing. And then one day, someone - he said his name was Seta or something like that - visited Fauson to do some accounting with the..." Misao thought of a better word for slaves, "_thralls_ you sold him."

Aoshi's hand had moved to his side when he heard Seta's name but he said nothing.

"Anyway, this Seta talked to all of us, asking us how much Fauson had paid for us and all those numbering kind of work. And then he had some candid conversations personally with us with that peculiar smile of his. And then-" Misao's face reddened a little, "the energion business kind of slipped out. I haven't had a decent conversation with anyone for those twelve months - everyone else was too gloomy - so I told him about how strange it was that everyone kept hoarding up energions because there was plenty of that to go around in the galaxy. He looked interested, so I told him I was a bounty hunter and I've seen a lot of energy mines. Then he told me that he'd get me out of Fauson if I would show where the mines were." She shrugged. "Well, I agreed. I wanted to get out of the hellhole fast anyway. So he got me out and we talked with his boss Shishio and we had struck up a good deal benefitting both of us. Then he sent me to you and you, Mr. Shinomori, almost killed me."

"Do you know about it?"

"The League? Every bounty hunter knows about it, but we don't know who are in it. I guess I'm part of it now, for the time being."

"Once you have anything to do with League, you can never get out of it," said Aoshi unexpectedly. "Either you cooperate or get killed."

"It's rather ironic, really," mused Misao. "When I expected to see you again, I expected to make you regret for selling me off. But now that Mr. Shishio had given me an offer I couldn't refuse, then I suppose there's no other way but to cooperate with his plan."

"You are a bounty hunter. You live by circumstance and money. You have no choice."

"Well, what about you?" asked Misao pointedly. "You take orders from Mr. Shishio too, just like that. You don't have a choice either."

Aoshi looked a little displeased from her words. "One day it won't be like that anymore," he answered coolly. He waved to the door behind him. "Get yourself some dinner."

"Now?"

"Now."

Misao slowly rose up and opened the door. Aoshi stood unmoving.

"I trust you shall keep your head and try not to do anything foolish," he said as Misao passed by. "My friends and I don't take to disruptive guests very kindly."

Misao closed the door, not answering, much to his mild surprise.

As soon as she had gone, Aoshi had walked towards the shattered window. Nights in Nihon, as well as days, was a mosaic of vehicles filling the airpaths, horns beeping and lights flashing. Life was a busy pattern of noise and lights, energy wasted in trying to be a someone in an empty universe.

He fingered the glass powder left on the sill. He'd have to have that fixed soon.

His hand dove inside his coat and pulled out a long, steel bar of silver. It was plain save a thin circlet in the middle and a small button at each end of the cylindrical bar.

He held the bar with both hands and pressed both buttons with his little fingers. Something hummed and the bar vibrated. He grasped the bar even tighter and pulled away from the circlet.

The bar separated cleanly from the circlet, revealing a glowing-green energion light blade inside the bar, lengthening as Aoshi pulled. Then the pulsating blade finally broke off from the middle, and on each of Aoshi's hand rested a short, energion saber.

They were his kodachi energion sabers.

He stared at their mesmerizing green light as they emitted the sound of energion particles bouncing off each other in their compressed state.

As much as he hated to admit, she was right. He too would have to cooperate, or there would be the Ten Sabers to pay.

_The Ten Sabers._

Aoshi's eyes sparked at the thought, reflecting the green hue. Then he turned off the buttons and the blades vanished. He drew the two half-bars together and twisted them. The circlet locked with a click.

He pocketed the bar back inside his coat and looked up. A small ship was making its way to his docking bay, reverse thrusters steaming and signaling lights flashing. Hoji Sodojima had come.

**chapter two, end**


	3. Chapter 3

** A/N:** A chapter on a bit more technical side. Laying the foundations of the story. (V'always wanted to say that. ^^)

**Bounty Hunter**  
  
Chapter Three   


  


"Master Shinomori," the housecom tittered, "a Hoji Sodojima wishes to see you."

"Send him up," answered Aoshi distractedly, putting his hands into his pockets as he glanced around the room. A minute later, it would be infected by the germs of a Trade League minion, and of one whom he despised very much so. Really, all he ever wanted was a moment of peace...

Aoshi's hand raked his bangs thoughtfully. _But I suppose it's too late for that._

The little red button on the doorjamb beeped, signifying a visitor's presence just outside the room door.

"Enter," said Aoshi gruffly. The door swished open and Aoshi's visitor came in.

Hoji Sodojima was a tall man with worry lines concentrated on the space between his eyes. His eyes were beady, always darting here and there in his suspicious way. Clothed in the best wool of Westlandia, he carried with himself an air of self-importance and contempt that never seemed to elicit anything from people but abhorrence.

"Good evening, Mr. Shinomori," he greeted silkily, surveying the room from ceiling to floor. "I noticed that your vegetation holograms looked almost like the real things."

Aoshi did not blink. "I'm sure," he said curtly. "Make it quick, Sodojima; you're making me miss my dinner."

"Ah yes, dinner with the lovely young lady I just met," reflected Sodojima, flashing his row of white teeth. "All in good time, Aoshi."

"Like I've said, I'm sure," said the former sarcastically.

"Come now, my good man." Sodojima removed his hat and rumpled his balding hair comfortably. "I don't see any reason for this hostility. I am here merely as a messenger-"

"-who is beginning to overstay his welcome," supplanted Aoshi more bitingly than he had usually allowed himself to be.

Sodojima paused and his eyes gleamed. "Have it your way," he said softly. "You will find yourself in quite a situation if you continue this hostility."

Aoshi didn't not know what he meant, but he did not care to. "State your message, and have it done with. We are both busy men."

"Mr. Shishio wishes to know if you accept his proposal for the creation of the energion bodysuit," said Sodojima. "He says that he cannot wait any longer."

"And I say that I have told him more than a hundred times that I will not help him with such a project, much less _direct_ it," replied Aoshi. "That has always been my answer; I don't see why he keeps insisting me to undertake such a wasteful experiment."

"Wasteful?" Sodojima looked indignant. "How can you call the healing of Mr. Shishio's skin as wasteful?"

Aoshi was ready with his answers. "One, you have no idea how much raw energion is needed for that. Two, seventy percent of the outcome will be failure. Three, if it is indeed created, you have no guarantee of the wearer's health because the degree of compression of energion particles for such a bodysuit would exceed any buffer's potential resistance. In layman's terms, Sodojima," said Aoshi in one breath, "Shishio can self-destruct."

"And that is all?" asked Sodojima innocently.

_And four_, said Aoshi to himself, matching Sodojima's stare, _I would be creating a monster_.

"My answers," said Sodojima triumphantly. "One, we have enough money for all the energion needed, do we not?"

Aoshi seethed.

"Two, what of the remaining thirty percent of success? Don't rule that out, Aoshi. Three, Mr. Shishio himself have said many times that he is willing to take the risk of...of the compression that you were saying."

"He is more than welcome to suicide, but I won't have any part of it."

"Oh really?" Sodojima rubbed his knuckles. "Do you really have such concern for Shishio's health, Mr. Shinomori? Or do you merely think that there is someone else in this world worthier of-" he cracked a knuckle, "-_invincibility_?"

"I believe that no one in this world deserves to be invincible, really," said Aoshi coolly. "One who thinks he is worthy of invincibility is a fool."

"Then you are saying that Mr. Shishio is a fool?" pounced Sodojima.

Aoshi smiled for the first time since Sodojima came in. "Did _he_ say that by wanting an energion bodysuit he wanted to be invincible? And I thought it was for the 'healing of his skin.'"

Sodojima reddened. "I don't have time for word games with you, Shinomori," his voice with a hint of a snarl. "I'll just give you the details of the mission and I'm off."

"That's what I've been saying to you ever since you came."

"The bounty hunter we have provided is Misao Makimachi. For the first part of the entire project, she has identified ten planets of raw energion mines located in the Kunggan Circle and you will go with her to see if those veins she spoke of is good enough to build excavations sites. After finishing with the Kunggan, you will come back to Terra and report to Mr. Shishio."

"And these ten planets?"

Sodojima pulled out a gleaming cylinder from his chest pocket and placed it on the table, spreading the thin, metal scroll open with his fingers. It was a small live-cartograph of Quadrant Nazran 17 of the Kunggan Circle. Aoshi could see the swirling solar systems of the quadrant, with the planets on their orbits around their brilliant suns. From the edge of it was a pulsating line of red light of the mapped route towards each of the twelve planets he was to visit. The stars twinkled amidst the black void and reminded Aoshi how much he loved space.

"We couldn't find maps for Kunggan in the storecenters since explorations and notations of the Kunggan Circle by the official Confederacy cartographers are still ongoing," said Sodojima as Aoshi took the map. "That had to be specially designed by our own cartographers, according to the League researchers and the bounty hunter's memory."

Aoshi looked at the ten planets marked in red X's, scattered across the quadrant. He pressed a finger on the northernmost planet and its name, location information, and moons were displayed in a small box at the edge of the cartograph.

"If I remember right, the Kunggan Circle has a much more inferior communication technology level compared to the other circles of the Confederacy," he finally said as he rolled the map back into its cylindrical form.

"I was getting to that. It's true communication to other solar circles is never a guarantee. We can't always check on you, and you can't always check with us..."

"And my mining system?"

"No need to get ahead of ourselves, but yes, about SEMS; we're going to need an acting executive while you're gone."

Aoshi frowned. He had no trust on any other person but himself. "Now that you've brought this up, why don't you send someone else for this mission?"

"We wish to send the best, and nothing but the best for the League. Quadrant N17 is still pretty new that we don't want to send some empty-headed rookie to do important fieldwork." Sodojima paused then dove in. "We are thinking of Kanryuu Takeda to-"

"Absolutely not!" roared Aoshi so unexpectedly that even Sodojima jumped from the tone. "What fool do you take me to drop my life's work into the lap of a snake?!"

"My, my, you _do_ have a poetic side," said Sodojima, a little shaken.

This was too much even for his NeoZen training. Aoshi drew his arm out, pointing to the door. "Out."

"Excuse me?"

"Get out. Ten Sabers or no Ten Sabers, I won't have anything to do with such an asinine plan."

"Do we really have to include the Ten Sabers in this conversa-"

"Did you hear me, Sodojima?"

Sodojima's face was a mixture of indecision, fake bravado, and panic. He hastily put back his hat and then took it off again, his eyes darting to and fro nervously. Finally, he whined, "All right, if you don't like Takeda so much, we could think of someone else."

Aoshi had regained his composure by this time and had been inwardly regretting of mentioning the Ten Sabers. He had been too hasty; he had clashed with the Ten Sabers once and did not want to again. He looked at the blathering mouse in front of him and took a deep breath, keeping his voice level. He will tolerate, but it will be within his conditions. "No, _I_ will think of someone else."

"You?"

"And I will have it no other way. I will agree to take this mission but I will also decide who will take my place as executive of the mining system."

Sodojima looked confused and appalled as he turned his felt hat in his hands. Aoshi could see the indecision in his eyes and couldn't help basking in it. Finally, Hoji Sodojima gave in and said, "Fine, fine, have it your way. Just tell me who you're thinking of sending by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes, and that's all the time I can give you," snapped Sodojima, galaxial suavity gone as he plunked his hat on his head. "You are scheduled to depart for Quadrant N17 at precisely 012 hundred hours tomorrow, standard time. I'll see myself out." Without giving Aoshi a chance to shoot another lethal barb, he stormed out of the room.

Aoshi gave himself a second to exude a sigh of relief and he himself went out of the room. He passed the table where Misao and his men were quietly eating uneventlessly and he said in a monotone, "Hanya, I'll be out for a while."

"Where are you going?" Misao asked.

"Nowhere that concerns you."

"You haven't eaten dinner."

"I didn't know it was that obvious."

"I'm coming with you."

Aoshi ground his teeth and growled in his throat. The entire universe was against him and he was at the mercy of a chatterbox. He didn't answer and Misao took it as a yes.

He went out of the door with Misao trailing behind him, planning to lose her with the maze of NeoTokya streets he was going to take. Being one who worked in the shadows, the flashes of lights here and there at first unnerved her and the blare of horns made the hairs on her skin rise, but she had suprisingly stayed with Aoshi with admirable persistence despite the abundance of NeoTokyo citizens and the vehicles that almost suffocated her. Finally, Aoshi gave up entirely and took the main street, silently berating himself to have taken his airspeeder instead of trying to lose the determined young lady. 

"What, the main street already?" she said a little cockily, taking his right side.

As usual, Aoshi did not comment.

They stopped in front of a small establishment that seemed to be sandwiched in the middle of two gigantic, gleaming starscrapers. Dwarfed by the towering structures, it was modestly decorated with replicas of red, Nihon lanterns that dated back three thousand years ago. The little house was a diner catering to traditional Nihon food, something Nihon did not have much, and was one of the few things Aoshi Shinomori liked in this lifetime.

The door had to be manually pushed open by Aoshi and when he did, a small bell chime greeted their arrival. When the servers of the diner heard the chime, they turned around and chorused a hearty, "Irrashaimase!" with smiles all around as they continued their work.

"Wow," said Misao, looking around. "I feel like I just got transported into another timeline. And they still have organic servers instead of androids!"

As Aoshi thankfully left the young woman in awe, he went straight to the long, black table in the center of the restaurant and quietly took a seat. An old Molgreiben noisily gulped down some rice sake from a cracked porcelain cup, its nose snuffling as it did.

"Ah, Shinomori-san!" A red-headed cook's head popped from the counter where he had been putting on some sashimi. He skillfully chopped up the last of his salmon with lightning-fast speed and set down his energion knives, rubbing his hands with a towel.

"My green tea as usual, Himura," said Aoshi Shinomori without preamble.

"Of course," said Kenshin Himura. "Yahiko, can you please get Mr. Shinomori his cup of tea?"

"Does he ever ask for anything else?" said a muffled voice at the back of the establishment. A minute later, a boy at the beginnings of puberty came out and slid a cup on the table towards Aoshi. Aoshi caught it with his hand and drank it in one swill. "Just bring me the whole pot, please."

"Stressed, eh?" Yahiko trotted back to the kitchen and came back with the pot and set it besides Aoshi's cup.

"I need to talk to you, Himura," he said after a few more sips.

"I'm all ears," said Kenshin, deftly combining seaweed and rice into balls.

"In private."

"Oh." Kenshin looked up. "Now?"

"The sooner the better."

"Hmm." Then, "Yahiko, call Kaoru-dono, please."

"Whoa, you're gonna poison the customers already?" Yahiko smirked, and a frying pan came out from the kitchen and hit him square on the noggin.

"What about your friend?" Kenshin motioned towards Misao.

"She's better off not knowing anything," said Aoshi icily.

Kenshin nodded and smiled gently at Kaoru as she came out of kitchen to take his place at the sushi bar. "Well, the kitchen's pretty private, Mr. Shinomori."

***

Aoshi came out of the kitchen, eyes roving. He saw Misao busy chatting with Himura's wife and he glanced at the silver multimeter on his wrist. He tapped his earpiece and a blue button on his multimeter glowed in the yellow light of the diner. He adjusted a tiny dial and the button blinked in a series of patterns, locating the frequency.

"Nihon Peacekeeper Headquarters, Precinct 12," an automated voice drawled from his ear.

"Requesting help of peacekeeper force," replied Aoshi, pulling up his wrist near his mouth.

"Patching to Sergeant Fujita Gorou."

There was a slight buzz, then "What?" was the brisk greeting from the sergeant.

"This is Aoshi Shinomori."

"And why is he calling me?"

"I'm requesting plainclothes 'keepers around Shinomori residence indefinitely starting tomorrow morning."

The lone wolf took a breath of his smoke stick before answering, "State your reason and keep it simple."

"To tighten security. I suspect someone might pull something funny."

Aoshi could hear the puffs of smoke on the other end as it said, "You'll have to do better than that. I can't go sending my men for anyone just because he doesn't have a sense of humor." There a was pause. "I'm a blunt man and I'll prove it. You're a rich man; why can't you afford private security for yourself?" 

"That's a personal matter," said Aoshi, feeling a bit annoyed. "Also, the reason for this request is too confidential to be discussed."

"I don't like guessing games. Just tell me what kind of foul play you expect to happen."

"Break-in, at most, or robbery."

"Doesn't sound anything terminal. Two plainclothes tomorrow morning should do."

"Two?"

"Good night." The sergeant switched off abruptly.

Aoshi tapped his earpiece just to make sure. He sighted Misao walking towards him and he rubbed his temples. He was starting to get a headache.

**chapter three, end**


	4. Chapter 4

** A/N:** I took some liberties in designating Hanya, Hyottoko, and Beshimi's hometown because I don't think they were very clear in the anime and the manga. As for Shikijou, he supposedly came from the ancient province of Satsuma, as was said in the anime and manga, but I changed it into Kagoshima because that's what Satsuma was renamed into and became part of after the Meiji Restoration. 

Furthermore, I'm basing this fic's Oniwabanshuu history on RK's own Oniwabanshuu history and my cooked-up Droid War from Nobuhiro Watsuki's rendition of the Boshin Civil War of Japan, just enough so that people would still be able to recognize the similarities between this fic and the historic foundations of Rurouni Kenshin (I'll give the examples later; I don't wanna spoil). BUT I'd like to forewarn people (those who may not to be too familiar with the historic foundations Nobuhiro Watsuki used for RuroKen) that I also deliberately made some noticeble inaccuracies, just so that I can still call this fic my own. Poetic licence, you know? ^^

Oh yes, I also made a few changes in the first few chapters. Nothing too major, but I realized I made a few mistakes and hasty conclusions.

**Bounty Hunter**  
  
Chapter Four   


  


Aoshi stared pensively at the switches he flicked on the roof of the cockpit. A red light turned on, signaling that the ship's computer had been activated. The smooth panel in front of him glowed, showing the main controls of the ship, ready to execute his command at the slightest touch. His hands flew over the controls swiftly and he could almost feel the energion particles being directed from their power core to the propulsion engines as the ship hummed.

Hanya was walking up the ramp leading to the open hatch of the ship, carrying a heavy box of hydro-equipment. He paused at the passageway leading to the spacious cockpit and asked Aoshi, "Are you sure of bringing the girl with us?"

"She's the only one who knows the way, isn't she?" Aoshi was absentmindedly checking the gauges for the system reports of the ship, but Hanya thought he sounded as if he was trying to convince himself.

"But leaving our astrometric navigation in her hands? Isn't that a little...rash?" Hanya shifted the box to his other shoulder. "I'm not judging anything, Captain, but she _is_ a bounty hunter that you sold, and she has every reason to plot some sort of extracurricular activity that can endanger us."

"Perhaps." Aoshi's voice sounded cold and far away as he peered at the readings.

"And I think you may have reason to feel uncomfortable with that, Captain?" Hanya sounded cautious but sure.

Aoshi appeared not have heard him. "Our lumbar shields need a few adjustments since our encounter with the Dr'kkev; tell Shikijou to have it fixed."

Hanya picked this cue as the end of the conversation. "Aye, captain."

As Hanya's footfalls clanked farther and farther away as the tall co-pilot made his way toward the cargo hold, Aoshi leaned back on his seat, the sight of the hangar of his mining system filling his eyes. His face was unmoving, but there seemed to be an inner conflict raging in his eyes as he sat there in stony silence.

"Mr. Shinomori?"

Aoshi blinked and swiveled his chair. Misao stood there, her belt of knives confidently around her waist, her braided hair flung over her left shoulder, one hand on her hip and the other carrying the cartograph Sodojima had given them. "I am ready to plot out our course to Nazran 17," she said, her voice crisp and businesslike.

Aoshi motioned to the co-pilot's seat beside him. "Sit down and do what you have to."

Misao complied, slipping smoothly into the seat that was much too big for her. She unrolled the cartograph and activated the astrometric panel on the switchboard, but before she began her work, she turned her head to face Aoshi and said, "Mr. Shinomori, I can't help but notice that you are rather... edgy of our having to work together..."

"That is irrelevant to our mission," shrugged Aoshi, his voice suggesting the closure of the subject, but Misao would not have it. "...and I understand," she continued, as if Aoshi had not spoken.

Aoshi cocked his head, watching Misao with some mild curiosity, if not with a little contempt.

"I merely wish to say that this is purely a business deal among you, myself, and Mr. Shishio," she said, her voice slow and measured. "All I want is to get it over with, and I'm sure that is what you would also prefer."

Aoshi wondered why her language had suddenly grown so refined and so impersonally distant overnight. It was a complete polarity from her personality the night before, and strangely, it had an odd, attractive quality to it. She certainly had grown since their initial meeting a year ago.

"So I would just like to erase the slate, so to speak, and start over," she was saying carefully. "I would be willing to forget what you had done to me one year ago, and to say upon my word that I am not going to attempt any sort of revenge on you. I hope that you would think of me the same way and would have no reason for doubt."

There was a pause long enough for Aoshi to realize that it was his turn to speak. "I have accepted that since I was first informed of this mission," he finally said dryly. "As you have said, this is a purely professional cooperation, nothing more. There is no need to remind me."

Misao smiled, startling Aoshi. "I'm glad to hear that. We're only following orders, aren't we, Mr. Shinomori?"

"For you, perhaps," he said icily, hoping that she had not noticed how his face had tightened at the smile. "As for me, this is a business profit to be taken advantage of. This is my decision."

"That Mr. Shishio had _suggested_, I believe."

Aoshi caught how she had stressed the word with some subtext that he did not like. "Plot our course," he said tonelessly.

"Very well." Misao spread the cartograph on her lap and her fingers played with the controls, mapping the vector points to be recognized by the ship on its journey to the first planet. She was deft, responding to each beep and whistle the panel presented.

"You know the path well to an unknown place such as the Kunggan Circle," Aoshi said with some amusement.

"I am a bounty hunter, Mr. Shinomori," said Misao, not looking up. "I'm supposed to know things that people normally don't." She pressed the last button and the computer emulated cheerfully, "Course mapped." Misao looked up and gave him the cartograph. "In case you want to check it."

Misao's eyes seemed to be challenging him to do so, and Aoshi, with the same degree of defiance in his eyes, replied with a trace of mockery, "It should suffice as it is."

"Very well," she said again, placing the cartograph on top of the panel. "I will be in my quarters if you need me, Mr. Shinomori." She rose.

Aoshi inclined his head as an acknowledgement and turned to his controls to ready the ship to take off. He sensed Misao linger before she left the cockpit.

He heard the thruster engines rumble as he pulled the walkway back and closed the hatch from where he sat, pushing buttons and turning a series of dials on the switchboard. He sat back and crossed his legs as the ship rose on the air smoothly, hovered, then sped gracefully away from the docking bay on cruising speed before it flew towards the sky and burst through the atmosphere and into normal space. After checking the sensor radars for any signs of irregular subspace layers or spaceholes and finding none, he set the course Misao had mapped and the ship launched into warpspeed.

***

"You sent a diner cook to act as the executive of your mining system."

It was only a communication video link onscreen his private compartment, but Aoshi could almost see the disbelief in Shishio's eyes. "As far as I'm concerned, Shishio," he answered, not bothering to hide the disdain in his voice, "Kenshin Himura would make a better executive than any of your lackeys."

"But a cook?!"

"You've started keeping tabs on him, I suppose?"

"Of course." Shishio waved a bandaged hand. "He's harmless; doesn't know a thing about the League or any of your connections, as I suspected. But you must trust him very much to have him take over your place."

"Temporarily. As to whether I trust him, the most I could say is that I trust him a thousand times more than I would ever trust Kanryuu Takeda in this lifetime, at least."

"You must excuse me for being surprised."

"I have no concern as to what your reaction is."

"Oh well, it's _your_ mining system. At least nominally." Shishio gave a leery grin. "For your sake, I hope your little cook knows what he's doing. It will be the League's funds he'll be using to mess around with the system's stocks and bonds, albeit unknowingly."

"He knows what he's doing," said Aoshi, shrugging.

"So much for that." Shishio rubbed his hands and Aoshi could not help but feel a little disturbed at seeing how purposefully Shishio did so. "How is the Makimachi girl?"

"Tolerable."

"Any of a bother?"

"Just something to get used to."

Shishio chuckled with a trace of something that Aoshi could not quite put his finger on. "Ten planets in the Kunggan Circle, Aoshi; you _will_ get used to her."

"Would you like to explain how you can afford to trust her so much as to send me with her prospecting energion lodes?" asked Aoshi coldly.

"Don't doubt so much on the League, Aoshi. You should know that by now. Of course, we provided a little collateral security for our own welfare." Shishio took a malevolent puff from his pipe.

Aoshi braced himself silently with dread. Everytime Shishio said something about collateral security, it was bound to produce revulsion.

"We managed to locate...well, perhaps what you would call a group of her bounty hunter colleagues. But they are apparently more than just colleagues, this ragtag gang which was a remnant of the Oniwabanshuu militia of some sort during the Droid War. They're 'family' to her." Shishio uncrossed his legs languidly. "To put it simply, we have our people with laser cannons on this 'family' of hers, within firing sight, in case Makimachi doesn't send you to the correct locations of the raw energion veins she claimed she knew." 

Aoshi stared at Shishio grimly. "I see. So this was what she called an offer she couldn't refuse. She must be regretting her little conversation with Seta back at the Ceruloid's."

"She wanted company and she spoke too much; she brought it to herself." Shishio took another puff carelessly. "We, as tradesmen, merely took the opportunity."

"Indeed." Aoshi's voice was contemptuous.

"Don't be so preposterously self-righteous, Aoshi; I'm not the only sinner here." Shishio pulled out a chronometer from the folds of his lounging robe. "I have something to attend to now; I'll see you when you come back."

Before Aoshi could say anything, the screen went blank and he was alone in his silent room once more. His tea was on the small table beside his bed.

***

"Check."

Hyottoko crossed his massive, fleshy arms on the chess table, frowning at Beshimi's move. "Swore I didn't see that coming."

"That's the point," chuckled Beshimi, leaning back and folding his arms satisfactorily as he watched the holographic chess pieces projected on the tabletop.

"But I bet you didn't see this one either," continued Hyottoko slyly, tapping something on the computer by his side. One of the figurines moved with the direction of an L, approaching a piece and disintegrating it before resting on the square. "Check _you_, Beshimi."

"I'm still in for the little fellow," said Hanya good-naturedly, pouring himself a glass of red liquid from a flask as his lanky frame leaned on the edge of the embrasure. "He still has a couple of good tricks on his sleeve. I should know."

Shikijou gave a guttural laugh as he veered his view from the system readouts on the panel he was examining in the lounge room. "I guess we're tied on that bet, Hanya."

Beshimi scrutinized the chess figurines waiting patiently for his move. "Could we do a tag team here?"

Hyottoko's guffaw caught Misao as she walked past the area. She stopped at the sound and bent back to watch and her eyes lit up at the chess game and the stand-off between Beshimi and Hyottoko.

"May I?" she asked before she could stop herself.

The laughter faded as all eyes redirected to the sound of her voice. There was a heavy silence, but it was not of hostility; it was more of a mild curiosity from the seasoned pirates who stood in that room staring at the bold bounty hunter.

Hanya was the nearest to her, making only the slightest movement to look at her. After a thoughtful pause, he shrugged and from his grotesque mask came the first sign of welcome that Misao received the moment she stepped into _Seiryuu_, the ship: "If you can do something to save my bet on Beshimi, then the floor's yours, bounty hunter."

Misao tried to suppress the grin that was starting to spread on her face as she walked towards the table. She bent down and sat on her ankles, her index finger tapping her chin as she mused over the configuration of the chess pieces, her brow wrinkled.

"Well," she finally said, "it's true he's got you boxed in and out into a stalemate, but he was also counting on you not being able to spot this little flaw here..." Misao tapped a command on the monitor and a figurine Bishop moved to its designated place, eliciting a surprised but resigned grunt from Hyottoko. "Checkmate,...er..."

"Hyottoko. His name is Hyottoko," Shikijou supplied tonelessly, but Misao could see a spark of geniality in his eyes amid the drastic scars pockmarked on his face. "You play well, bounty hunter."

"I learned to play at home, with my friends in Kyoto," said Misao, glad at the opening.

"Kyoto, the Old City?" Beshimi repeated, shutting down the chess game and throwing a glance with his cat-like eyes at his comrades. "That's the city that was one of the last few defenses against the Confederacy during the Droid War, wasn't it?"

"It was," answered Misao as the holograms dissipated.

"I'm Hanya, from NeoTokyo," said the co-pilot unexpectedly, coming closer. His voice was still guarded but it was open. "Shikijou is from Kagoshima. And that is Beshimi and Hyottoko, both from Yokohama."

"And Captain Shinomori?" Misao could not help asking.

"Apparently, both of you have something in common," answered Hanya. "Kyoto too was his hometown."

Misao's eyes widened. "Really?"

"In the days of the Droid War, he was assigned to guard the energion plant in Kyoto," Hyottoko began, but seeing the warning look in Shikijou's eyes, he faltered and ended lamely, "...but the war was the war."

"That's strange," said Misao, frowning. "Okina was part of the group who was assigned to guard the Kyoto energion plant too, ten years ago. But I never heard him say anything about someone called Shinomori..."

"Who's Okina?" asked Shikijou curiously.

"Oh," said Misao hastily, "he's a good friend of mine, from back home."

"A bounty hunter too, like yourself?"

"We pretty much are," said Misao cautiously. "It's a living."

Both sides knew that each of them was hiding something from the other, but they kept quiet. They were here to work together, not to pry at each other's affairs.

"Well," said Misao, breaking the silence and standing up, "I must be going now. I told Captain Shinomori I'd be in my quarters if he needed me."

The other nodded their acknowledgement without a word. After the bounty hunter left, Hanya came over to his friends, edging away his mask away from his mouth to empty his glass.

"Okina, eh?" he said, placing the cup on the table. "Now there's a name we haven't heard of in years."

  
  


Misao stood behind the wall of the open passageway, hearing every word that Hanya had said. She bowed her head.

Her caretaker Okina, who had adopted her when she was an orphan into the Oniwabanshuu, had told her many times the story of the battle for Kyoto's energion plant in the War that occurred ten years ago when she was only eight. The Oniwabanshuu, the group of bounty hunters she now called her family, used to be a secret militia regiment of the former Galactic Monarchy; it was located in Kyoto and was assigned to serve as the rangers of the city and its energion plant, Kyoto's main source of power. Then the revolution broke out, riotous outbursts clamoring for the overthrowing of the monarchy and the establishment of an Interstellar Confederacy. The rebellions grew in number until it completely manifested into the Droid War, and the Oniwabanshuu was ordered by the monarchy to serve with their life as the defense of the energion plant of Kyoto. Power plants were the only source of power for the civilians, and to seize them would be to seize the cities that depended on them.

At that time, Okina had just handed down his leadership of the Oniwabanshuu to a young lad of eighteen he trusted to become his successor. This man took his position of commander with pride, and his first operation for the Oniwabanshuu would be to commandeer the defense system of the Kyoto enerigon plant against the forces of the rebels. He was ready and eager to prove the worthiness of the militia; he knew that Kyoto was one of the last remaining defenses the monarchy had against the revolution due to the vast armies of warrior droids the rebels had invented and manufactured illegally, and this new commander took this challenge with relish. He spent sleepless months preparing for the attack, coordinating the reports of the spy network of the Oniwabanshuu with his defense tactics against the imminent onslaught of the rebels.

But the attack never came. The monarchy, overcome by their fear of the number of rebel droids who would later hunt them down, decided to surrender to the leaders of the revolution before they began the attack on Kyoto. The commander of the Oniwabanshuu was shocked and disgraced by the order that came from his superior officers: to willingly cede the energion plant to the rebels. He did so, calmly obeying orders, but Okina knew he was broiling with rage over the cowardice of the monarchy and of losing to the rebels without a fight. The monarchy was overthrown and the Confederacy was established; the former monarchial forces, such as Oniwabanshuu, were officially abolished from the government to be replaced by precinct peacekeepers, and the Oniwabanshuu was out of work. Gradually, the Oniwabanshuu members left the group to start new lives. Those who still considered themselves Oniwabanshuu, however, became bounty hunters, and remained in Kyoto located in their old headquarters, the Aoiya. Believing they were still responsible for the peace of the city, no matter in which government, they hunted down with their superb skills wanted criminals, handing them to the peacekeepers in exchange for the bounty to feed themselves.

And what happened to the commander? Misao would ask her grandfather, as she had been too young to understand and to remember when all this had happened.

At the question, Okina's face would darken and merely say that the commander left with his own companions for Tokyo, and that was all Okina would say. He would not even mention the commander's name.

Misao kept her head bowed, a barrage of thoughts attacking her. Could this Shinomori be that unnamed one, the one whom she had admired, since she was a child, despite Okina's disapproval? Hyottoko had mentioned with the slip of his tongue that Shinomori had been assigned in the defense of the Kyoto plant, and she had caught the look that the scarred one, Shikijou, had given him: it was a touchy matter not to be discussed with strangers. This had set her thinking of the crazy possibility that she was in the same ship with her role model. Shinomori's age was just about right, and she knew he was intelligent and courageous enough to lead a defense as commander against a ferocious droid attack.

But if he had been an Oniwabanshuu, why was he now working with the Underground Trade League, as one Shishio's higher men even? Surely an Oniwabanshuu had more dignity than to sink into that kind of degradation?

Watch it now, she told herself. You're working for Shishio too, aren't you, in this cooperation to guide Aoshi Shinomori to the Kunggan Circle? And don't you claim to be Oniwabanshuu too?

But I'm doing it for the protection of the Oniwabanshuu, she protested. That's an entirely different thing and that justifies it, right? Doesn't it?

Misao sat down and crossed her arms over her knees. She leaned her head on the wall, wishing she was at home in Kyoto right now.

**chapter four, end**


End file.
